


A Moment Too Late

by KillThemWithCandy



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bofur is a Sweetheart, But it can also just be super awesome friendship, Everyone loves Bilbo, Fili and Kili too, Hobbit customs, Hobbit's are proud of their feet, Hurt/Comfort, I didn't want this to end how it did, I'm hurt and need comfort, Thorin/Bilbo if you do absolutely nothing, Very proud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillThemWithCandy/pseuds/KillThemWithCandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Fili and Kili were just a moment too late in saving Bilbo from the trolls?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment Too Late

"Hold his toes over the fire!"

Bilbo squeaked in protest, trying to remember what Fíli and Kíli had said to do when in trouble. Something about barns?

His thoughts were ripped from him as the troll holding onto him lowered him to the fire.

"Where are the other burgulobbits?"

Bilbo cried out, "There are none! It's only me! Please, no!" He felt himself start to tear up.

Pain overwhelmed him as his feet were dipped into the fire. He cried out, but the shouts were muffled by the war-like cries of his Dwarf company as they went to defend their Hobbit.

He looked around him, shock and joy filling his heart as he watched all thirteen of them face the trolls to defend him. He was knocked from this stupor as the knife he's been reaching for fell before him and he rushed to save the ponies.

 

Adrenaline had been the only thing keeping Bilbo going as he distracted the trolls, paying no mind to the aching throb in his feet. His Dwarves had done so much to save him, now it was his turn to return the favor. He only had to occupy the trolls’ feeble minds for a few minutes before the sun would peek over the stone guarding them with shade.

Yet, when Gandalf arrived and destroyed the foul beasts with the light, the merciful natural drug in his blood slowed and pain seeped back into his mind. He tried to ignore it, to continue on and thank Gandalf and help his friends, but as soon as his feet were moved, pain shot through him and he fell into darkness.

 

When he woke, Óin was tending to his wounds, spreading cool salves against the burns and wrapping them in bandages.

"Bilbo!" Fíli and Kíli were quick to his side with Bofur close behind.

"We're so sorry!" Kíli grabbed his hand, "We waited for a while, but when we heard nothing we feared the worst and got everyone."

Bofur pulled the brothers back by their collars, "Give him room, you two!"

Bilbo covered his face with one hand and used the other to help him into a sitting position. He glanced down at his feet and his eyes welled up with tears, the pain seeping back into his mind.

"Oh, Bilbo...." Bofur whispered.

"I-It's nothing." The Hobbit quickly wiped at his eyes, "This.... This is an adventure.... You can't get out unscathed. I'll be fine."

Óin, however, had a different idea, "He cannot walk how he is. The coals in the fire burned through his flesh like paper."

"No, no." Bilbo waved a hand to him, "I'll be fine, I just-" he gasped and hissed at the pain that ripped through him when he curled his toes, "I just.... need to tough through it...."

"Bilbo...." Óin put a hand to his knee, "You've done well. You were brave, but you were also hurt. We can each carry you until your wounds are well enough to walk."

Gandalf strode over, "I'm afraid Master Óin is correct, Bilbo. I'm sorry to know that this has happened to you, and I grieve."

Bilbo whimpered and nodded, wiping his tears away once again.

"Grieve?" Fíli spoke up, "He will be able to walk in the future."

"Yes, but a Hobbit regards their feet as a Dwarf does their kin. Hobbit feet are thick and resilient, but they pamper them more that your great-grandfather did his gold hoard." Gandalf told them, "To have damaged feet in any way is a terrible thing for a Hobbit and I fear our Bilbo Baggins may lose much of his reputation in the Shire for what has happened tonight."

"No, no, you're wrong!" Bilbo covered his eyes, "I'm fine, my feet are fine, everything is fine!" He dug his palms into his eyes, "It just stings a little, it'll be fine! Everything will be fine!"

There was a thick pause. Not a single Dwarf, by Bilbo's side or not, dared to even breathe. The silence was deafening. Bilbo sat there, eyes covered, and took deep breaths, calming himself.

"I'm fine." His voice was strong and determined as he pulled his hands away from his eyes and looked once again at his feet. Burns peeked out from under his bandages as if to laugh at him, staring him down. He tried to keep breathing, but each inhale grew quicker, each exhale mixed with a whimper of pain, and suddenly he could no longer suppress his tears, falling back and sobbing blatantly in front of thirteen Dwarves and a Wizard.

However, no one spoke or thought anything ill towards him. All cast their eyes downward in a moment of grief for what they had cost their burglar.

Bilbo must have been exhausted, because his sobs did not last long and his hands slowly fell to his chest. He'd cried himself to sleep.

Bofur scooped the Hobbit up into his arms, "I'll carry him."

Thorin nodded to him, "I will carry his things." He took Bilbo's pack from the ground and pulled it over his shoulder, "We tread lightly. The Trolls will have had a cave nearby and there may be more of them."

 

When Bilbo awoke it was to the smell of fur. He slowly opened his eyes and found himself not only with Bofur's hat upon his head, but Thorin's coat wrapped around him. He carefully sat up, blatantly ignoring his feet, and looked around.

The Dwarves had found a small rock clearing to set up camp for the night. Bombur and Dori sat by the fire, nursing whatever dinner they were cooking in Bombur's cooking pot. Fíli and Kíli laid cuddled close to one another just to his right, fast asleep. Dwalin, Balin, and Thorin all sat to Bilbo's left, though it seemed they'd yet to notice he was awake. Nori and Ori were huddled close to one another, a blanket wrapped around both of them. Óin, Glóin, Bifur, and Bofur were all crouched together to keep warm, watching the cooking pot and waiting for the meal inside to be served.

Bilbo pulled Thorin's coat tighter around him and buried his face in it, pulling down the ear flaps on Bofur's hat so he was all but invisible in his wrap of furs.

"Bilbo."

He didn't look up at Thorin. He just slowly sat up and moved to pull off the coat.

"No, keep it. You need to stay warm." Thorin sat beside him.

Bilbo sighed and pulled off the coat anyways, untying it and draping over both himself and Thorin, "If you get too cold you'll get sick." He mumbled.

The Prince looked down at Bilbo, who decidedly still refused to look up at him.

"How do you feel?"

The chuckle that escaped the Hobbit's throat did not comfort him, "Like everything I ever once head dear is well and truly gone."

Thorin looked away.

"I'm no burglar. I'm not even a grocer. I'm a cook. I make food. I fill bellies. I should be over there with Bombur and Dori, helping them make whatever they're making, but I'm stuck here because I was stupid enough to get caught by a trio of Trolls with less combined brain power than a horse." He moved his legs a moment before hissing in pain, "I can't even really move my legs. My ankles were burnt, as well, so no matter what I move it'll hurt. Why couldn't it have been my hands? At least then I wouldn't burden you all for however long it takes me to heal."

"You were brave. Far braver than I ever expected. Despite your injuries you saved me and my people, and you never once gave in to the pain until you were certain we were out of harm. That in itself is a feat."

Bilbo gave another painful chuckle, "It's called adrenaline, Thorin. A drug your body produces to give you whatever energy you need to either stand and fight or run like hell." He sounded angry, "I wasn't brave, I was just stalling for time, and if I hadn't been caught in the first place, none of this would've happened. We would have our ponies and the Trolls would be far behind us and I would still...." He trailed off and looked down to his lap.

Thorin wrapped an arm around Bilbo's shoulders, "Perhaps, when you are feeling better and we have sufficient supplies, you will show is how a Shire Hobbit cooks?"

Bilbo paused and finally looked up, "I warn you," his smile was playful, but his eyes still showed pain, "There will be some vegetables. Maybe even fruit."

"Well, should it come accompanied with good meat, I'm sure we can overlook that detail." Thorin smiled down at him.

"Hey, Bilbo!"

The Hobbit looked away, across the clearing, to Bofur, who was grinning and pointing to his head.

"Yes, thank you, Master Bofur, but I think this hat suits you far better than it does me." Bilbo smiled, "After all, my hair does not resemble that of an unwashed goat."

There was a chorus of laughter, including Bofur's.

"Would you care for your hat back?"

Bofur shook his head with a smile, "No, keep it for tonight."

"Well, thank you. That's very kind."

"Not a problem. However, I have to correct you on something. That hat does suit you."

"Oh? Perhaps I'll never return it then."

Bofur laughed and turned back to his huddle.

Bilbo's smile quickly fell and he glanced down. Thorin watched the Hobbit's entire posture fall. He pulled Bilbo closer to him, fitting them side by side, and secured his coat around them once again.

"Rest, Master Baggins." Thorin told him, "The food is far from prepared. I will wake you when it is finished."

Bilbo nodded slowly and closed his eyes, resting his head on Thorin's shoulder.

 

Óin checked on Bilbo's feet constantly, reapplying salves and his own special ointment and wrapping them delicately.

They all took turns in carrying Bilbo. Usually it was whoever felt strongest that day, which more often than not was either Thorin or Dwalin, but sometimes Fíli or Kíli would insist on taking him or even Bofur, who found his head uncovered every time he did.

Gandalf had shown Bilbo he blade he'd found for him in the Troll tunnels and told him of its magical properties. He also told him that as soon as he was better, the Dwarves would be more than happy to teach him to defend himself with it properly.

The blade felt heavy and awkward in Bilbo's lap or against his side when he carried it, depending on how he himself was being carried.

Thorin, Dwalin, and Bofur preferred to hold him in their arms, but the brothers carried him on their back, which gave them more agility to run from a fight to keep their Hobbit safe.

Also, there was an unspoken rule that if you were carrying Bilbo, you always had someone else with you in case something happened. That way whoever was carrying him could retreat to safety while the other defended.

Honestly, Bilbo was beginning to feel like dead weight. Especially when the Orc pack attacked them. As soon as they heard the Warg cries Thorin had passed him over to Fíli, who pulled him onto his back and told him to hold tight.

Kíli and Thorin stuck close to Fíli and Bilbo, dispatching anything and anything that came near them. However, soon the whole company was overrun, all of them surrounding Fíli and Bilbo. The Hobbit's hand moved to his hip and he drew his blade.

"This way, you fools!" Gandalf's voice boomed behind them and Fíli immediately followed it, dropping down into the small crevice of rock and pulling Bilbo off his back, looking him over.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, now see to the others!"

It didn't take long for the last of their party to drop into the small shelter, and as they entered, they each looked to Bilbo to ask if he was alright.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine!" Bilbo huffed, "I'm concerned about you lot."

They each checked themselves, reassuring him that they were fine. He sighed happily and pulled his knees closer to him, a gesture that had slowly stopped hurting as much.

Thorin sheathed his sword and knelt down to lift Bilbo, taking the Hobbit's own blade and sliding it away. He then looked around. "Where are we?"

Dwalin retreated to the back of the opening, "There's a path! I cannot see the end, however."

Thorin moved so he could carry Bilbo on his back, "We follow it. Master Baggins needs rest."

"I'm fine, Thorin!"

Of course, everyone ignored him and just trekked on. He huffed and relaxed onto Thorin's back, his sword patting against his thigh with every step the Dwarf took. They moved along for quite some time before the path opened up and revealed the most beautiful sight that had ever graced Bilbo's eyes.

"Rivendell." He gasped. The thought of the extensive libraries, the massive kitchens, and even just baths made Bilbo itch to ignore the pain in his feet and run to the city as fast as he could.

"This was your plan all along." Thorin snapped to Gandalf.

"We have a map that we cannot read and an injured Hobbit. Lord Elrond can help us with one and Elven medicines are the best in all of Middle Earth."

Thorin paused and tightened his grip on Bilbo's legs, "Fine."

They trekked down to the entrance of the city, greeted by a tall Elf with long brown hair, "Mithrandir!"

The pair of them shared an Elfish greeting, "I must speak with Lord Elrond, is he here?"

"My Lord Elrond is out with a hunting pack."

"When shall he return?"

A horn echoed across the valley and Gandalf chuckled to himself. However, it was not long before the Dwarves were surrounded. Thorin lowered himself to Bilbo would be out of harm's way, maneuvering him so he was back in his arms. Bilbo noticed how every Dwarf around them was hunched down with their shoulders back, ready for the weight of the Hobbit to be placed upon them.

"You have a wounded Hobbit." Lord Elrond's voice rang in Thorin's ears and he rose up once again, "Bring him to me."

Thorin carefully approached the Elven King, who lowered down to rub noses with the Hobbit, "I grieve for your loss."

Bilbo nodded and whispered a "thank you," rubbing his nose against Elrond's in return.

"See that this Hobbit is healed within the night, do all you can to limit any scarring." Elrond turned quickly to the Elf who had approached him, "Prince Thorin, you must allow us to do what we can for your Hobbit."

"It's okay, Thorin." Bilbo smiled.

Thorin begrudgingly handed over Bilbo to the awaiting arms of the Elf, "Should I find any harm has come to him...."

"I assure you, we only mean to help him." Elrond bowed, "Now, come. I am sure you are your company are hungry and tired."

 

When they next saw Bilbo it was the next night during dinner. The Hobbit, leaning heavily on a small wooden cane, hobbled on his own to the table, grinning when his Dwarves all clamored over each other to see him.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better. The scarring is very minimal, and the head healer wants to speak with you about your remedies, Óin, if you'll grace her with your counsel, her words, not mine. I don't think you Dwarves have any grace in you." He chuckled, "But at least I don't have to be carried any longer! The cane is only because the bandages are wrapped so tightly. The salves in them are supposed to help speed healing but limit scarring. And, I think you may enjoy this, I counted four Elves who just openly wept for me. Just out of nowhere. Four Elves who started crying, telling me they grieved for me, and continued about their work with tears streaming down their faces."

The company laughed and took turns clasping Bilbo on the shoulder or patting him on the cheek.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Thorin asked as the group retreated back to their meal.

"The head healer said I should be good by tomorrow afternoon and to carefully wash off the salves with warm water. I'm not harmed, Thorin. The whole experience was rather odd, but I feel as well as I have in weeks."

Thorin nodded slowly, "Alright. Come, eat with us. We are recounting tales of our childhood."

"Do Dwarves have a childhood?" Bilbo chuckled and followed, sitting to Thorin's left, "I figured you were all born with thick beards and thicker skulls."

"Oh, oh, Thorin!" Kíli grinned, "Tell Bilbo how you first met Master Dwalin again!"

 

"It was incredible! The only time I've ever seen Uncle frightened." Fíli laughed.

"Mother came storming up to him and, I kid you not, pulled him by his ear over to her, shouting all sorts of things we were far too young to understand."

Thorin put down his mug with a chuckle, "My sister is one of the most terrifying creatures I have ever seen. I would rather swear allegiance to Lord Elrond and have peace between us than see Dís angry with me as she was."

"She can't be that bad." Bilbo reasoned.

Fíli and Kíli laughed, "Our mum?"

"I'm sure she's a fine lady!" Bilbo huffed.

"Oh, she is!" Kíli smiled.

"And she's beautiful, as well." Fíli added.

"But may the gods have mercy on you if you find yourself on her bad side. She wields an axe that stands taller than Master Dwalin and she's not afraid to use it."

"And she has more wit about her than any Dwarf I've ever met. If she wants to be on your good side, she knows how to get there."

"She rules as Queen of the Blue Mountains and she's actually the ones who told us to join Uncle Thorin's quest!"

Thorin chuckled, "I believe her exact words to me were 'Please, for the love of all things, take these hellions from my mountain. Keep them, I don't care, I just can't stand to hear another complain about whatever mess it is they've made.' Or something of the like."

Fíli and Kíli grinned innocently.

"Well, at least she has the right mind to tell troublemakers to leave her home instead of chasing after them and joining in their adventure." Bilbo chuckled.

"Speaking of home, what tales do you have of your childhood that you could share with us?" Glóin smiled.

"Oh, nothing as exciting or fun as you lot." Bilbo held us his hands, "Oh, no."

"Well that might be all true." Bofur smiled, "We heard Gandalf saying you were a right troublemaker yourself in your youth."

Bilbo paused and blushed, "Yes, I suppose by Hobbit standards I was. Nearly struck my mother and father dead when they would hear about what messes is gotten myself into and what adventures I'd conjured up in my mind. Though.... After the Fell Winter I stopped. Especially after my father died. Then, once my mother passed away it was as if I had no real need for anything. Just food and warmth and sleep. I suppose I should be thanking you lot, actually, for knocking myself back into me."

"I don't mean to pry, but what is the Fell Winter?" Kíli chimed.

"Kíli." His brother hissed.

"No, it's alright. Backs when, goodness, it had to only be maybe thirty years ago.... Yes, I remember I passed my twenty-first birthday during the Winter. It was a terrible Winter. Snow and ice were have said to spread even to Mirkwood. Hobbits have always been a gentlefolk and we were unprepared for what was coming to us. Our food ran out quickly and the Shire was constantly under attack by wolves and Orcs. It was terrible; many chose to forget it ever happened. Gandalf and some friends of his from the North, I believe they were Men, defended us, slaying the beasts that attacked and bringing us as much food as they could spare. The whole thing was terrible, the worst tragedy to ever befall the Shire. Nearly half of us froze, starved, or were killed. Most of the childhood friends I had made were dead when the sun finally shone on our home. I know it does not compare to the pain you all have suffered, but the Winter still haunts me. Cold terrifies me and I've come to be thankful for any food I may come across, given or found."

"Mister Baggins...." Kíli paused, "I'm sorry; I didn't meant to upset you."

"Oh, no." Bilbo raised a hand with a smile, "I'm quite alright."

"Bilbo." Bofur stood and leaned across the table, wiping his gloves against his cheeks, "You're crying."

"Oh! Am I? I'm sorry about that." He moved away from Bofur's hands and wiped his eyes, "I hadn't realized.... I'm sorry; this has put quite the dampening on the mood, hasn't it? Perhaps I should be off to bed, then. Please, eat and be merry, my friends." He pulled himself to his feet and took his cane, hobbling off.

The company sat in silence for a while.

"I had no idea something like that even happened." Nori whistled.

"Orcs attacking the Shire?" Dwalin shook his head, "No wonder the lad seemed so terrified when he thought he heard wolves."

"Someone should go check on him, make sure he's actually okay." Bofur looked to the doorway.

"Uncle, he's rather fond of you. Perhaps you can help him feel better?" Fíli offered.

"I don't know what help I could be. Master Baggins has recounted a terrible experience for us."

"Well, it's not like we've lived in the lap of luxury our whole lives. Perhaps you can comfort him somehow. Or even just be a shoulder to cry on." Kíli shrugged, "It just feels wrong to let him be alone."

Thorin sighed and stood, "Alright, I will see him."

"Thank you."

 

Bilbo and Thorin sat on the bed given to the Hobbit by the Elves, Thorin's coat wrapped around their shoulders, just comfortable in one another's presence.

"Thank you for coming, Thorin." Bilbo whispered.

Thorin just nodded. The Hobbit leaned into him and stared down at his feet, wiggling his toes gently.

"How do your feet feel?"

"Better, though I can't wait to get rid of this cane. The healers said I should even still be able to grow hair."

"That's good."

Bilbo nodded, "Yes. I may, in fact, return to the Shire with my dignity intact."

 

The next day, after lunch, Bilbo appeared to them again, somber and quiet. When Bofur called out his name in excitement, he simply nodded his hello before sitting down quietly.

As he approached the table, everyone took notice of the fresh bandages around their Hobbit's feet.

The meal passed quietly, and it was obvious the Elves hosting them were confused about the sudden lack of noise, six different ones coming in and offering them more wine, which was declined.

Bilbo made himself a small salad, picking at the leave of lettuce and cherry tomatoes gingerly, munching on them slowly as he stared at nothing. He didn't even notice his friends were acting odd. He continued to nibble at his meal, frightening everyone each time tears welled up in his eyes and he had to pause to will them away.

It wasn't until Bilbo finally swallowed the last piece of carrot that he realized something was wrong. He turned and noticed thirteen sets of eyes upon him, and his face flushed. He looked down, apologized, and quickly excused himself.

"Uncle."

"Bilbo, wait!" Thorin stood and rushed after him, "Please, what's the matter?"

"It-it's nothing, Thorin. I...." Bilbo shook his head, "Nothing."

"If it was nothing it would not be hurting you so."

Bilbo looked up at him and chuckled, "Stupid, wise Dwarves. If you must know, I was wrong." Bilbo told him stubbornly, "I was completely and terribly wrong. There is no way I will ever again be respected in Hobbiton and I...." He bit back a wave of tears, "I don't know what I'll do. Why couldn't it have been my hands?" He groaned and covered his eyes quickly, "Anything but my feet, why?"

"Are you still in pain?"

"What, no. The Elf healers have fixed me, I'm fine. Right as rain. Fit as a fiddle. Oh, except for hideous red scars licking their way up my ankles and the crippling pain that I will likely never again be able to play with my young cousins or have any sort of respectable gathering because the state of my feet are so incredibly terrible, and I have no one to blame but myself and three dead trolls!"

"Bilbo...."

"Don't 'Bilbo' me; I don't need your pity! I don't know why I'm telling you any of this; you have more than enough on your plate with this whole adventure, I just...." He paused and took a shaky breath, rubbing his eyes, "All hope at once again being a proper, respectable Hobbit is gone."

Thorin didn't know what to do. He wanted to wrap Bilbo up in his arms, reassure him that it would be okay, but he knew he couldn't do that. Bilbo's reputation was tarnished in a way he could not recover from.

A thick silence lay over them and Bilbo began to cry, silently trying to wipe away the tears as they came and failing miserably.

Then Thorin did wrap his arms around him, pulling him close and holding him tight as Bilbo cried.

"You could live in Erebor. Your scars would be respected, rejoiced, and you would not have to worry about revealing your injury to any who would harshly judge." Thorin told him, "Dwarves regard scars in a high manner and we wear them with pride. Yours will be rejoiced and songs will be sung of how you obtained them."

Bilbo let out a small sob that sounded slightly like a laugh.

"May I see them?"

Bilbo pulled away and wiped his eyes, but nodded. However, he let out a noise of protest when Thorin knelt to the ground and lifted one of his feet so he could undo the wrappings.

"I can do it myself; you don't need to get on the floor!"

Thorin didn't reply, though, and set the first set of bandages aside before setting down Bilbo's foot and lifting the other, repeating the process.

"Alright, you've made a right fool of me! Thank you! Please, get off the ground, you idiot. I can't have a Prince kneeling before me, what if one of the Elves- Thorin!"

The Prince had lifted Bilbo's foot and pressed a gently kiss to his ankle before setting it down and lifting the other to do the same.

"You.... You...." Bilbo stammered and floundered over his words, his face flushed deep and his mind racing.

Thorin lifted himself from the ground and smiled before taking Bilbo's hand and guiding him back to the table.

The twelve Dwarves who had all witnessed this event were stunned, each staring as Thorin let Bilbo sit back down and pulled up a chair beside him.

Surely they did not just see their future King kneel down before Bilbo, unbind his feet, and then kiss them! They were all just having a mass hallucination, that was all.

 

"Tell me, Little Thief." Smaug chortled, "What are you called?"

Bilbo stammered, "M-many things, O Smaug the Amazing. He That, uh, Walks Unseen, Elf-Friend, and Spider Stinger." He fumbled around, looking for where that damned stone could've gone to, "I am the Child of the Kindly West, the Lucky Number, the Burnt Foot, and the Kissed Ankle." There. Just within his grasp.... "I am the Clue-Finder, Guest of Eagles, Barrel Rider...."

"Barrel Rider?" Smaug laughed, "Impressive titles, little one. Tell me, do your burnt feet ail you? Do they cause you pain? Do you fear the fire that caused your scars?"

"M-my journey has given me time to heal, O Smaug the Incredible...." Bilbo whimpered as the dragon inched closer to him.

Smoke curled up from Smaug's nose as he chuckled, "Do you fear flame, Child of the Kindly West?"

"A-Anyone with sense would fear flames."

Smaug grinned, "Indeed they would. Perhaps I should teach Oakenshield some sense."

Bilbo watched Smaug's belly alight with fire and he quickly slipped on his ring and grabbed the Arkenstone before running for his life.

 

Bilbo huddled over Thorin, whose eyes seemed to soften when they fell on him.

"Thorin! Thorin, oh, no...."

"Bilbo.... I'm glad you're here.... I wish to part with you in friendship."

"No, no, no, no. You're not going anywhere."

"I take back my words at the gate.... You did what a true friend would...."

"You're going to be fine, Thorin. Stop. Come on."

"You.... are welcome to remain in Erebor.... if the Shire will not accept you."

"Yes, I'll stay. I'll stay here and we'll tend to your wounds and everything will be okay and you'll be King Under the Mountain once more."

Thorin smiled, "Perhaps in another life."

"Thorin! Thorin, don't you dare die! You've been stubborn about so much else; you can't just give in now. I don't care about any stupid grudge you think I might have or anything else, you are going to live or so help me I will.... I will.... Thorin?"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! That's for reading this! If you really like it, please shoot me a message. I love to hear from you and I would actually like to start a "Moment Too Late" series for pretty much any fandom I can get into. I'll even take some requests!


End file.
